Don't let Mental Illness leave you grounded

Recently we took a trip back to the United States from Australia.  For those who have never done that sort of flight let’s just say it’s not for the faint of heart.  A rough total of 23 hours in the air and another 10+ hours in layovers take a lot out of you, not only physically but for those who live with mental illness, mentally as well. 

Preparation is the key to it all, making sure medications are packed and are taken as close to normal time as possible.  That is probably the easiest part, the rest can leave you feeling off, confused, tired, depressed, and manic and in some cases psychotic.  I know it does not seem like it’s worth it, but travelling is a chance to see the world and the sacrifices that are made are worth it if taken care of in the right way.  We were not made to stay in one place, there is so much to explore and experience that our mental health should not keep us from that.  However, having these illnesses can add an element of difficulty, especially when they involve long flights and most importantly a lack of preparation.

Sadly I fell into the latter category; I was ill prepared for the trip, mentally.  I had lists for what needed to be packed, papers printed for hotels, car rental, site seeing, flights and visas.  I had an itinerary planned and ready to go and waited impatiently for the day to come.  We even arrived at the airport 90 minutes before it opened.  

What I didn’t plan for, however, was my mental health. I knew in the back of my mind that it could become an issue, lack of sleep and a disruption of a regular routine has been known to cause me problems in the past.  I told myself that was in the past, I was smarter now and could handle this without a problem.  I knew jet lag would be an issue, but with a little sleep and some down time there would be no problems, turns out that I was only half right. 

Flying to U.S. was OK, jet lag was minimal – though I was tired – I felt good and we had a fantastic time visiting New York City.  I had never been to Central Park or Time Square so I felt like a little kid exploring for the first time.   We visited with friends, toured the battlefields of Gettysburg and did a little shopping.    All this made the fact that I was tired seem irrelevant, there was so much to see and do I was on top of the world.

When the time came to return back Australia, I hoped it be just as easy.  I would love to be able to say it happened that way, but after four days of being back home, I have not slept for more than 5 or 6 hours a night, I’m irritable, moody, depressed, hypo-manic and fear psychosis isn’t far behind.   The emotions of visiting my home left me with feelings of nostalgia and the emotions of coming to terms with who I am now.  I looked forward to returning to work when we returned, but since we live in a resort town winter is very slow and it is possible I will be out of work for the next 3 months.  Put all these things together and I am struggling to find my footing once again.  All the progress I made over the last year seems to have dissipated over the Pacific Ocean.  I am struggling to focus and return to a schedule and routine that I am familiar with and helps me be the person I want to be, the writer, photographer and person who loves life and battles the demons with strength and determination. 

I do not say these things to deter anyone from travelling, it is actually the opposite.  I want people to know that, yes travel can be a challenge if not handled correctly.  There is planning that needs to be done not only with what you will pack and things you will do, but also how you will handle jet lag or a disruption in your daily routine.  These two topics alone should be at the top of the list when preparing for a trip.  It is very easy for a slight relapse to make a huge difference not only in your holiday, but in the return home as well. 

A Lesson I Keep Having to Learn and Relearn

In a perfect world we act, sometimes wrong, and when we do we learn not to do that action again.  We move on with life not really thinking about it again, chalking it up to one of life’s learning moments.

There are times though when, for me, that doesn’t always work.  There is that intellectual part of my brain that tells me, “You shouldn’t do that, you know what is going to happen and it’s time to step back and think first.”  Then there is a other side of the brain, the one that thinks it knows better and can control  everything, that  tells me, ”Don’t worry, we got this.”

Seems complicated, doesn’t it, actually it’s quite simple and it is in that simplicity that I lose myself and my logical thinking.  With my mental health challenges I know that I need to take care of myself in every way possible, the right amount of sleep, eat right, exercise, take my medication, but most of all I need to listen to my body and what my mind is telling me.  This lesson is one that was brought to the forefront recently and set me back a bit.

Working a part time job four or five days a week is OK, the hours are good and I have plenty of down time and freedom to focus on what I need to do.  However, a couple weeks ago they became shorthanded at work and asked me to come in on my two days off.  Of course I jumped at the chance, two extra days of pay, how could I turn that down.  My mind right away went to how much I could make with the additional days, what we would be able to do with the extra money – that was the focus, the extra money.  I wasn’t thinking about the affect it was going to have on me both mentally and eventually physically as well.  My normal five days suddenly turned into 12 days, it wasn’t until day 8 that it hit me and I realized what I mistake I made!   I had gone against my better judgement. 

Eight days in I was physically exhausted, I still believed I could do it, finish the next four with no problem, I had blocked the tiredness out of my head – dissociated you could say and kept moving.   When I finished my assigned days, I had two days off and collapsed.  I enjoyed the days off and knew that after that I would be on again for five more days. 

That’s when it hit me, I woke up that morning for work and a weight was on my chest.  The world was coming at me from every direction, conversations I’d had recently had suddenly became scenarios in my head where I was wrong and would be chastised for, and no good to anyone.  I was in the midst of a major anxiety attack.   For the first time in many months I took my anxiety medicine and went to work, wanting nothing more than to just be alone and let this pass, and jump start my brain again.

As you can imagine this is not the first time I have done this, felt I could take on the world and have no repercussions, and sadly it probably won’t be the last.  Each time, however, I can only hope that I get a little stronger, a little smarter and maybe a little wiser and know that I need to listen to not only my body, but my mind.  In my case, my mind is what is most important, if that happens to short circuit, the whole wall will tumble down and it will often take days to try and build it back up to try again.

Oddly enough, yes, there is a positive side to this.  I am learning, slowly and with encouragement that I need to take better care of myself.  Look at the bigger picture, i.e. myself, not what a few extra days of work will do for the bank account, think of what it will do to me.  It’s not selfish, its self care and knowing what it will take to stay well and available for friends, family and life in general. 

The Person that changed my approach to mental illness

                                                                               

The person that changed my approach to mental illness was my dad, but not in a way you may think.

In 1996, just shy of my 30^th birthday I was hospitalized for the first time and officially diagnosed with Schizo-Affective Disorder.   (This illness was passed genetically to me from my father who lived with Paranoid Schizophrenia.   Schizo-Affective in essence is a combination of Bipolar Disorder and Schizophrenia)   I finally had an answer to what had been happening to me mentally, physically, not to mention the effects it had on those I loved.  I knew what I had to do to help myself, take my medication, visit the psychologist and take care of myself physically.  This was not going to go away over night, or with the magic of a pill.  It was long term and I had to face it. 

Like most people, however, I am stubborn and believed I knew better than the doctors, I could do this on my own.  I didn’t want medication or help from them, I knew what was wrong and could get myself through it, and after all I’d made it this far, right? 

My theory seemed to be working until one early April morning in 1999; I received a phone call that my dad had passed away.  While his death was heartbreaking, knowing how and why he died threw me into my own reality and made me see who I didn’t want to become.

My dad lived for more than 30 years in a world of his own.  He rejected treatments, doctors and hospitals; he was a wanderer, always searching for what was in his heart or an idea he was chasing.  I consider that a part of who he was, as a Native American his spirit called to him and he followed, it was the  part of himself that he could control and enjoy, the one part that was not taken away from him by illness.   Videos were found after his death that he had made; snippets of himself trying to explain away the voices and confusion in his head,  we could see that while the intelligent and talent man we knew was talking, his mind was not his own.

That moment, those images, rocked me to my core, he was not able to help himself when he needed it most.  The illness that took over his mind was too powerful for him to control and without help from a doctor; he could not put the voices and images to rest. 

I realized that what I had been doing was no different from what my dad had done, ignoring the doctors, and believing I was better on my own, that the voices and images were nothing to worry about. I came to realize that yeah, they were something to worry about and if I didn’t start listening and taking care of myself, I too would become a statistic – as statistic like my dad. 

I tell people that he gave life to me twice, he is my father, but in his death he saved me from falling down the same path he did.  I’m not saying it’s been easy, I have been hospitalized a few times over the years and at times still buck the system, but what has kept me going is knowing that I am stronger with each day and I believe he is with me, watching to make sure I stay on track and live my life, a life that was cut short for him.   

His Native American spirit is in me as well, I too am a wanderer and find the greatest joy and peace when I am hiking or taking photographs, it is then that the voices settle, the mind focuses and just for a moment, I am free!

I live now for both of us.  

Are you too intelligent to be Mentally Ill?

This is a common problem for many people, the outside world, as it can be referred to, feels that if you are intelligent or creative, then you can’t be mentally ill.  The stigma is that those who are mentally ill commit crimes and cause trouble. 

If you look down through history some of the greatest minds have been or are mentally ill.  Famous authors, musician, painters, doctors, etc.  It seems that the creative mind feeds off its self.  These disorders fuel the brain, whether it is depression, mania, hallucinations or anxiety, each plays a part in shaping who we are and bringing our gifts to light.  Recently Carrie Fisher passed away, a great voice for bringing Mental Illness to light.  She had an amazing gift and used it to bring joy to others through her movies and understanding through her work to fight the stigma of these illnesses. 

I wish I could explain how it all works, but the one thing I can agree with, is what Brian Wilson of the Beach Boys spoke of in a 2002 interview. *In 2002, he spoke of how the disorder affects his creativity, explaining: "I haven't been able to write anything for three years. I think I need the demons in order to write, but the demons have gone. It bothers me a lot. I've tried and tried, but I just can't seem to find a melody.*  There is a lot of truth in what he says, our brains are meant to work a certain way for us and to change that, changes who we are.   

I’ve been hospitalized a few times and what I learned there or was told was that I was too intelligent!  I was to analytical! I became friends with the art therapist, she would push me to do things differently, to not analyze, to do something that I haven’t done before.  It was a great challenge for me because it’s not who I am.  It is a quandary we often find ourselves in and not one that we can answer or control.   

While I will admit it is a nuisance at times, it helps me to be the best I can be at my craft – writing and photography.  I believe it is the complexity of my brain that allows me to do these things, to craft stories, to see things in nature that others may not see and share that through my photography.  Would I want it to be different? That’s actually a hard question to answer, while yes to be without my illness would be great, no more medications, doctor visits, no mood swings and all the things that go along with it, however, I wouldn’t be ME.  I curse this illness most days, but it is because of it that I am able to do what I do.  My brain, while many would see it as not working correctly, I feel works just fine.  Yes, I have challenges, but doesn’t everyone? 

The thing is, beyond all the talk, stigma and misunderstanding,  there is the knowledge that we are gifted because we are fighting harder than we ever thought we would be able to and that in itself is worth bragging about.   So, be creative, be loud, be funny and let the world know that this is what Mental Illness looks like. 

Mental Illness and Violence are not related

Image via Wikipedia

There is the assumption that everyone with a mental illness is or will become violent, but it is most commonly used as an excuse for what someone has done.  In turn it adds to the ever-present stigma that comes with a diagnosis of mental illness.  

According to research done at Oxford University it was found that two of the most serious psychiatric disorders, schizophrenia and bipolar disorder - can lead to bouts of delusions, hallucinations and loss of contact with reality; however, these conditions are not an indicator for potential for violence.  In research done with more than 20,000 people in 2009 showed that the probability of violence was greater in those with who were abusing drugs and alcohol, then those with a mental illness.  Mental illness is more often used to explain violence and is over reported by the media with blatant false information.  These reporting’s make it nearly impossible to change the impression of the general public.  Heaven forbid people should be responsible for their own actions.    

Everyone has a tendency to be violent given the right circumstances, so to blame an illness is incorrect. Knowing how the brain works in these instances is crucial.  My dad was a paranoid schizophrenic who refused medical care; he used drugs and alcohol instead - in theory making him a triple threat in the area of being violent (according to the research and the general public) in reality; he was only a danger to himself.  Becoming a recluse he died alone in his bathroom of a massive heart attack.    

We have become a society of blaming  others or incidents for what we do.  It is rarely our own fault.  Look in the news and you will see celebrities who when caught in adultery immediately claim they have a sexual addiction and are seeking treatment. Really??  How about being honest and stating the truth, you can't be faithful and are looking for a way out.  Nearly anyone in a high-profile job or having celebrity status immediately turns to the mental illness genre for the reason for their actions.  Since we tend to idolize these people we immediately believe it is ok and everyone jumps on the band wagon.  What this does to those who truly live with these illnesses, it undermines there condition and hopes for recovery and becoming an accepted member of society.    

To put things into perspective soccer fans are more likely to be violent during a soccer match, but the person in general would never be seen as violent, but simply a fan.  This is true, as a soccer parent for 14 years, the game itself and the parents/fans watching can become very volatile.  It is a high pressure, emotional game that is taken very, very seriously.  In reality, statistics show that 1 in 14.3 million people will be killed by a person with schizophrenia, while you are three times more likely to be killed by a lightning strike at home.    

One of the worst things is to admit being mentally ill so it is kept quiet, and we suffer in silence because if anyone found out, we know we would be ostracized.  The general public would be surprised at the number people they associate with each day with some sort of mental illness, including the two most serious disorders, bipolar disorder and schizophrenia.  Before you judge someone, make sure you know who they really are, what is truly behind their actions and how you may be able to help them. 

Related articles

• A physiological marker for false memories (guardian.co.uk)
• Prejudice and Stigma Surrounding Mental Illness (godplacedherinmypath.wordpress.com)

What does Mental Illness look like to you?

Image by Ilja via Flickr

Twisting and turning with nowhere to go, running from fear that no one can hear.  Hidden well in the depths of our souls searching for answers that only we can know.  We live in our minds, a place of confusion, hoping for understanding, though we dare not speak its name.  It controls our days and keeps us awake at night.  It is responsible for dark circles and hunger as it eats away at our souls. 

To the outside world, we pretend we are strong, that we are alive and ready for adventure, when in reality for us, it is always Halloween – we wear the mask of confusion and let others interpret it as they wish. Until then, we wear the mask, stumble through our days and look for the light that only we can see, the light that will guide us out of the confusion and into a life, we desire to live, full of rainbows and blue skies and the clear direction we so desperately need.    

Related articles

• This Journey (aimlesslypassionate.wordpress.com)

We are all Hoarders

Image via Wikipedia

Chaos is my word for today.  Chaos can send you into a world of confusion and depression, lethargy and just plain nothingness.  Chaos can create extreme anxiety because there seem to be no way out.  Chaos around us will throw you into chaos and paralyze you with fear.  Sounds horrible, doesn’t it?  Sorry to be so negative, but the more we let things build up around us, the harder it is to find our way out, to find a way to be at peace and feel free from our prison of stuff. 

I have watched the T.V. show Hoarders and wonder how people can live like that, most who watch the show will readily criticize and say they just need to get off their butts and clean, let go of the junk.  While this is true, it’s not that easy for any of us to do.  To an extent, we are all hoarders.  We all have things  we do not want to let go of, items that collect in drawers, in corners and even in our minds, we cannot  imagine parting with.   Face it, we all have the notorious junk drawer.  That one place where we keep items that we know we will need one day, for some reason.  

What we see on T.V. is obviously the extreme and the majority of us will never get to that point, but the tendency is there for anyone to become trapped within their own chaos, whether it is physical items that others can see or mental that we hide from everyone.  Mental hoarding, while probably not an official term, to me is just as debilitating as hoarding objects and becoming buried by them.  I believe we can also become buried by our thoughts.  Those thoughts we keep burying in our minds can bury us just as easily as material objects.  They cloud our judgement, blind us to reality and keep us from thinking clearly and rationally.  

  

The label hoarder can come in many forms.  What are you hoarding?  

Related articles

• Toss The Chaos (multicreativist.wordpress.com)
• The rise of hoarding (bbc.co.uk)

2010 - Can I have a do over?

Image by Vainsang via Flickr

I sit here realizing, mostly with a sense of relief that 2010 is over. The last 12 months have not been my friend, for the most part. While there are always good things that happen, as a whole 2010 was a bust. I look back at the last 10 years and see so many changes and see where I was then and where I am now and know I have come a long way and there is still a long way to go.

10 years ago we returned to the Northeast after 5 years in Texas. It was a tough move, I love the south, and I love Texas. Though I was born and raised in the Northeast I have never been a fan of the winters, I am a warm weather person – period! In the last 10 years my girls have grown up, I am no longer consumed daily by their care. My oldest, now 21 has a daughter of her own, my middle daughter (soon to be 20), is working, lives with her boyfriend and is going to school, and the youngest (who turns 18 in a couple weeks) is getting ready to head out to college. It has become easier for me to find time for myself, for what I long to be in my life and pursue my interests and dreams – well, that is the theory. It has been hard to do though, 21 years of child rearing is hard to break, and finding me again has been difficult. I know where I am and what I desire, but I find it difficult to give myself permission to go there, to that place.

I have learned a lot about my capabilities in the last 10 years. I lived in my illness for so long, “knowing” I was not able to do much, I had to control every aspect of my day, my life, my illness and stress would certainly destroy me. That idea was challenged and destroyed time and time again over the last few years. While my illness does run my life at times, it is always there – reminding me of its presence, I am able now to outsmart it and keep going with minimal down time. I have been pushed beyond myself imposed boundaries, and accomplished more than I thought I could. I can’t say that I always liked it and I would love to do things more my way, but it has stretched my way of thinking and my thoughts of what I was capable of.

It is in these things, however, that I also lost myself. In trying to overcome and tackle the challenges in front of me, I let go to the way side many of the things that I lived for, that fed my soul and made me who I was and am. In 2010, my writing fell to the wayside – the longing to put words to paper tear at me, my school work fell to the wayside, and my dreams became lost in the business of work and life. I lost that part of me and long to retrieve it more than anything. To find the balance, to be the person I know I am, the person putting the words to paper.

My photography also fell away, for the same reason – the necessity of other things took over. I regret those moments, the loss I feel now and what could have been. I find myself jealous of those who have the time or are given the time to pursue their dreams, ideas, schooling while it seems the rest of us are here to sit back and merely dream and watch from the sidelines.

I realize this is how I see 2010, as a whole and what I see as my goal for 2011. To undo what I saw happen in 2010, to regain me and live for myself and the person God chose me to be. Yes, I lost some of my faith during 2010 as well, lost to the busyness and necessity of survival. The days passed by me and left me behind wondering where I went over the last 365 days.

Tomorrow at midnight I will welcome 2011; I will look it in the eye and say, “Let’s start out the right way, let’s work together and be who we are supposed to be.” A new decade, a new beginning, a new life and a new dream, a new story to be written.